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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548332">The House of Madej</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfuldaycupcake/pseuds/awfuldaycupcake'>awfuldaycupcake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher (web series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:02:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfuldaycupcake/pseuds/awfuldaycupcake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shane buys a house that's supposed to be haunted, and uses it to run a phony fortune-telling business. What could go wrong?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. February</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shane… didn’t see himself in this position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was standing outside of a dimly lit house in Santa Monica, early 2016, with two Party City bags in hand and $20 in his bank account.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As to how he got there? Well. It wasn’t the best of circumstances, to say the least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After leaving Chicago, he’d kind of set his sights on the big city. LA, that is. He’d auditioned for some internship that backfired, and then was kind of stuck on the streets for a time. So, his options were fairly limited-- and, when in Rome, act as the Romans do. Well, when in a tourist-trap beach town, more like it. Act as the West Coasters do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he’d found a cheap, for rent, falling-apart property sandwiched between a shady tattoo shop and a mini-golf place not too far from the Santa Monica pier. The building had been unused for some time, due to “ghosts” (Shane used heavy-handed quotation marks there) and the house’s history of some creep mailing letters there a few years back. Honestly, Shane could take it. He was an imposing figure, to someone who didn’t know him better, and besides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who would attack a palm reader?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The palm reader thing didn’t actually come from a space of self-defense. The idea first came to him when his hotel budget was running very slim, and he was getting a little desperate. He’d stumbled through the streets of LA, looking for any inspiration. Maybe something to film, maybe a diner with Help Wanted ads. Whatever he could find.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, lo and behold, he stumbled into the best scam he could think of. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fortune Telling.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Listen, Shane was the last person to believe in fate. It wasn’t like he’d seen God in that little tourist trap a block from the Hotel Cecil. Nah, it was a large sign detailing palm readings and free instruction for the “Newly Sighted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d entered. It was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>free</span>
  </em>
  <span> part that garnered his attention. These places were literally made to scam people out of there money, so. Why do it for free?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The person behind the counter, an early-twenty-somethings person with white hair and dark eyes, stared him down the second he entered. They gave him a small smile from behind the desk, and said, “I am Asra. What brings you here today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. The class was short, and Shane got a free deck of Tarot cards and a little booklet telling him what the cards meant, and how to read palms. It was pretty simple, all things said, and from the sign on the wall behind Asra, </span>
  <em>
    <span>every tarot reading was $30 a pop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>What the hell! He could do this little juncture, scam some LA tourists while he gets back on his feet, and it’ll all be a funny story he’d tell his kids one day. Nothing odd there-- desperate times and all that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took the first step into the little house he was renting, the paint chipping outside from disuse. Shane ran a hand over the doorframe, making a face at the chipping. Damn. He didn’t have the cash to fix that. LA landlords, amirite?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sign he’d painted with acrylic paints hung on the front door-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>HOUSE OF MADEJ: PALM AND TAROT READINGS. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was such bologna it almost made him laugh. House of Madej. Jesus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front room was going to be the selling space. He’d bought tapestries and scarves, draped around the small sitting room. He’d even hung a purple tapestry up on the ceiling, adding to the purple and gold aesthetic he’d got going. It was surely a fire hazard, but he’d worry about that one when the time came. Besides, he had renter’s insurance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d set up the small card table he’d bought at Ikea in the center of the room, and a big glass ball from party city smack dab in the middle of the table. The faux-gold stand really added to the shittiness, but Shane didn’t care. He was marketing tourists-- he didn’t expect these people to be coming back. If they knew he was a fraud? So be it. All palm readers were frauds, as far as Shane was concerned. So, who cares?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spread the tarot cards out on the card table, setting the black velvet bag Asra gave with them next to it. He unfolded two black folding chairs on either end of the table, and he was set.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was awful, it was kitschy, and it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what Shane was going for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hung a bell over the door, switched the sign to open, and settled down into the cheap black chair. He thought briefly of making a Facebook page, or some form of advertising, but his thoughts were stopped as the bell at the door rang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Shane wasn’t really expecting business this fast. He’d been open for what, 15 minutes? Shane </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t expecting the client to be a young-looking man, wearing some sports jersey, cargo shorts, and a beanie with a zip-up hoodie overtop. Like, okay, not to stereotype but Shane pictured… I dunno, an older white woman, in town to visit her granddaughter? Not this, that’s for sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His skin was a light brown, and he wore a smile that reached to his eyes. “Hi, uh, you do tarot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh,” Shane floundered. “I suppose I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s great,” the man said, visibly relaxing. He pulled the door shut behind him. “The place I always used to go got shut down, something went wrong with an apprentice? Uh, anyway. What are your prices?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This man was really treating a tarot reading like an emergency dental visit, huh. “Thirty for tarot, fifteen for palm,” Shane said. He decided that if he sounded confident, others would probably buy it. For whatever reason, he was starting to get nervous. Probably because he’d never done this before, but damn. It was just bullshit, what was there to figure out?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect,” the man said. He sat down across from Shane, a smile falling over his face. “Can we do a tarot today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Shane said. With that, he began analyzing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You see, if he planned to do this, he was going to do it like an episode of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Psych.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’d find out little things about the man, little visible quirks, and play them off like he knew what he was doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firstly, here’s what he knew about the cards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Major arcana tended to lie out of the person’s hands. That was the big stuff. Minor arcana? That the person could fix. The suit of minor arcana identified a different timing; Wands were days, cups were months, swords were weeks, and coins were years. Maybe if a card like 2 was in Wands (for the past,), it meant a challenge (the meaning of twos) had happened in the last few days (the meaning of wands.) Each number was a defined variable, and each suit was the unit. To Shane, remembering it all was merely a math problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was solving for X, though, and X just happened to be the best way to keep the gentleman in front of him satisfied with the reading. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane took the cards out of the deck, offering them to the man. “Can I ask your name?” He asked, “And could you also shuffle these?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” the man said, taking the cards. “It’s Ryan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Ryan,” Shane said, “Is a three-card spread fine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, for sure. I think Celtic’s a little bit derivative,” Ryan said, handing the cards back to Shane. Shane took them with a smile. Oh, good. That’s good! Shane had no idea what he was doing with the damn Celtic spread. There were what, ten cards involved? No thank you, no sir.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane took the phony crystal ball down, spreading out the deck of cards in front of Ryan. “Okay. Pick your first card, and hand it to me. Don’t turn it, just hand it over like it was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan obliged, picking a card out of the deck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to do these one at a time, or would you rather draw all three at once?” Shane asked. Ryan smiled warmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, no one’s ever asked me that before.” Shit. Fuck. Shane shouldn’t have said that, huh? “One at a time is fine. And uh, my question,” Ryan said. Oh, right. Shand almost forgot about that part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My question this month is, uh. Well. I started a series, kind of a new project, and the guy I’m doing it with isn’t really all that interested, even though we’ve only done one episode so far. Should I push him to keep doing it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane gave a little sigh at that one. Yikes. That… okay, that wasn’t fun. It made sense why Ryan would ask a psychic for that one. </span>
  <span>Well. Asking a psychic never makes sense, really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan drew the first card. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Past,” Shane said in his most dramatic, over-the-top voice. As he flipped the card, he saw one of the Minor Arcana staring back at him. The Page of Cups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Shane said. He thumbed through the little booklet under the table, careful to see that Ryan’s eyes weren’t meeting his. Thankfully, they stayed trained on the deck, inspecting the card thoughtfully. “A page usually means news of some kind will be brought, and uh, for cups that means within the last few months. And you started this series with this guy, yeah? When was that greenlit?” Okay, this was a momentum he could work with! Shane had bullshitted his way through lots of things. Relationships. College. And now tarot! It would be great. Easy peasy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last month, yeah,” Ryan said. He was looking down at the card with a little disdain, almost disappointed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you not telling me, Ryan?” Shane said. God, it was so hard not to make fun of this guy right now. It was-- come on, man, it was low hanging fruit. Who believed in this stuff! This was grandma stuff!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just, uh. I know that card,” Ryan said. “It was in my present for my last spread. It’s just… weird coincidence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but Ryan,” Shane said, a smile finally breaking over his face. God, this was too funny. “There are no coincidences. Besides, the Page of Cups describes a person who’s kind, with big dreams, but is easily hurt. Does that sound familiar to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I mean. It sounds like me, actually,” Ryan said. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> it sounded like him. From the sounds of things, he lived in LA, had a shot at a dream job, and it’s flopping right now. No one moves to LA without big dreams, and everyone thinks of themselves as </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was all such vanilla, meaningless words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the cards are suggesting that this is in your past, and that you need to work over time on solidifying your confidence and ability to receive constructive criticism,” Shane said. Ryan nodded slowly, and it looked like he was seriously taking this to heart. “Draw me another card, Ryan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, Ryan reached out, drawing a second card. He passed it gently to Shane, there fingers brushing for a mere second as Shane took the card.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Present,” he said, flipping it over. “Two of coins.”</span>
</p><p><span>Ryan stared quietly over the card. Coins meant years. He was looking into his present of </span><em><span>many</span></em> <em><span>years.</span></em></p><p>
  <span>“Ya see, the two of coins means that there’s a hard decision being made,” Shane said. “Uh, you need to remain calm and rational, and make the most practical choice you can given everything around you. So, in terms of this guy you’re with, or whatever. If he’s taking the project in the direction you want it, fight to keep him. But if this isn’t what you want, don’t feel obligated,” Shane said. Ryan nodded, slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. Shane gestured to the cards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One more draw for me, Ryan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan drew the final card. Shane smiled when he flipped it over. Ah, Major Arcana, finally. These are the fun ones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Future,” Shane said, “The Tower.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane could’ve sworn he heard Ryan mutter a little “Oh, fuck,” under his breath. Yeah… This wasn’t a good one to see in the future slot, huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, this one’s major, so you can’t uh, can’t really change it, but,” Shane said, “it looks like your castle is crumbling. Something you’ve put effort into is going down, probably soon, and basically you’re just gonna have to roll with it. No matter how you deal with the two of coins thing, at the end of the day, if this guy wants to split, he’s gonna split. You can’t hold him around forever,” Shane said. He offered the guy, Ryan a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan wasn’t smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, shit. This wasn’t exactly what Shane would’ve chosen for his first reading to go. It seems like he’d wrecked this poor kid’s day or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan leaned back in the chair, huffing out a small breath. “Well. I guess that answers my question, then. I’ve gotta, uh, let him go, huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane offered him a pitiful half-smile. It was awfully awkward sitting there, watching this guy he didn’t know go through some sort of pivotal re-evaluation of his partner like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t-- I don’t know if I can do that. Not now, at least,” Ryan said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because the cards said that doesn’t mean it’s certain,” Shane said, looking over at Ryan. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe he should tell the guy he’s a fraud. Like, come on, Shane might be a scammer, but he doesn’t want some guy to change his entire career goal around a deck of cards he’d gotten for free, like, a week ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know it’s just one </span>
  <em>
    <span>possible</span>
  </em>
  <span> future. I know,” Ryan said. He ran a hand down his face, a sigh passing his lips. “It’s just that, I don’t know, I wanted something different. But n-- no, this is good. At least I’m not like, in denial of the possibility.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane couldn’t do much more than offer him another pity-smile. Well, at least at this point the blame didn’t squarely fall on his shoulders. All he really did was interpret some cards that happened to align vaguely with the thoughts Ryan was already having. Confirmation bias, that’s all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, as Ryan passed him the $30 over the table, Shane couldn’t help but feel like he was letting the guy down, somehow. Or like he was letting some opportunity slide by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a gut reaction, Shane leafed through the Party City bag, pulling out the receipt. He was sure to grab a part that didn’t have any incriminating evidence that he was certainly a fraud, but he quickly scribbled down a note, passing it over to Ryan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And, uh, you’re my first customer, so uh, next one’s free. As a little, uh, special… thing.” God, he wished he had a way with words. There was something about Ryan, something he couldn’t put his finger on, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was something he felt like he was supposed to do here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was hooey, though. None of this was real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan smiled at him, then, taking the small piece of paper. “Thanks. Uh, what did you say your name was?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shane,” Shane said. Ryan offered him a smile, and made his way to the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Ryan was out of eyeshot, Shane felt himself slump in his chair, a breath he didn’t even know he was holding escaping his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know why the second he met Ryan, he felt something strange about him. Not like the guy could see right through him, necessarily, but that he could see </span>
  <em>
    <span>past</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. If that made sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bell clanged, a second customer entering the store, and Shane sat back up in the chair with a smile.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. March</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The next month, Ryan gets another reading.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>At a certain point, he wasn’t really expecting Ryan to show up. Maybe Ryan figured out that he was kind of shitty at this whole thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane had had a variety of customers this past month. There was Allison, the old lady who’d stopped by a few times asking for palm readings. There was the tattoo artist from next door, a short woman with bold pink hair, who’d asked for tarot. Her cards were mostly predictable, and it was pretty easy because she asked if she should continue a relationship with some guy named Roger. He was a doctor, and it seemed like he had some serious money to his name, so fuck it. Shane told her to go for it, stick with the guy. Might as well if he’s lining your pockets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Y’know, Shane would really kill for someone to be lining his pockets right about now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Business wasn’t exactly booming. Covering for a house, even a little house, was more expensive than he’d really thought, going into this. Power, AC, plumbing, and internet were absolute must-haves, and he’d had to cancel his Netflix subscription to keep the lights on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plus, this house wasn’t in the best condition anyways. It would always creak and moan, and Shane was starting to see why people had been saying it was haunted. Not that it actually was haunted, that was stupid. Just that the house was rickety and not doing well, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d made that Facebook page a while back, but it seemed like the younger crowds flocked more to Twitter and Instagram, and while Shane vaguely knew how to operate both of those, he found out pretty quickly that regular content wasn’t easy to come up with. And marketing anywhere else cost some pretty serious money. Like, making a website? That shit’s expensive! You needed to buy things for that! And god, he thought he could get a billboard or a TV ad? Impossible. The most he could afford was an ad on a Yahoo! Answers thread, and with his frankly abysmal photoshop skills, it didn’t even seem worth </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The whole thing was a train wreck, frankly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d resorted to eating ramen almost every day during his little lunch breaks. Sometimes, though, such as today, no one really came in, so he ate his ramen whenever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, yeah. He was running thin on liquid resources. It’s fine. The fact that this was actually his backup plan and he didn’t want to be doing it in the first place? Irrelevant. Couldn’t matter less. All that mattered at the moment was customer retention, since he seemed to be seeing the same few people every couple weeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when Ryan reappeared in his living room, it was enough to make Shane partially glad, partially annoyed, and a little nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The annoyance was easy to explain-- he really shouldn’t have given that guy a free session, that was a little stupid of him. He just had something about him that Shane couldn’t identify, some air he couldn’t define. Maybe that’s where the glad part came in. Shane had always been a curious fella. An investigative soul, if you will. So he wanted to know what was going on, why he felt so off around Ryan. It was like an uneasiness. But, at the same time, one that wasn’t too unpleasant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nervous part came from just how quickly Ryan appeared in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane hadn’t even heard the bell on the door ring, and perked up at the sound of Ryan clearing his throat. Shane wasn’t one to jump in his chair dramatically, but he did kind of half-choke on the ramen he was eating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Ryan said. “Is this a bad time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I just, uh. Wasn’t expecting anyone. Come in, come in,” Shane said. He set his bowl of ramen on the ground next to the table, hoping he didn’t forget it was there and kick it later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan was wearing the same jersey as he was last time. The beanie and hoodie were gone this time around, though, and he was staring at Shane with an incredulous look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, dude, if this is your lunch break I can--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, sit,” Shane insisted. Ryan sat across from him. “Tarot again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, tarot,” Ryan said. He was staring, almost seeming incredulous, almost seeming in another world. Ryan blinked a few times, shrugged, and sat down across from Shane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the question today?” Shane said. He took the cards out of the black velvet bag he stored them in, shuffling them lightly. Ryan looked strangely spaced out, but when Shane spoke to him he refocused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah. I wanted to know if, uh. If now’s a good time to…” Ryan said. He gave a small chuckle, looking down at his hands in his lap. “If now’s a good time to make a new friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now’s always the time to make a new friend,” Shane said, still shuffling the cards. He spread them out in front of Ryan with a small smile. “But don’t listen to me, listen to the cards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it,” Ryan said. He looked through the array, staring at the large eye in the center of the back of each card. Shane wondered what he was thinking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan drew a card, passing it to Shane. Shane paused, for dramatic effect of course, and flipped the tarot card over. A man stood, a pack tied over his shoulder, and a dog at his feet, staring off into the distance smiling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Fool. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Major arcana.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, the Fool in the past. So, Ryan, essentially you’ve just began a journey, correct?” Shane said. Ryan grimaced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could say that,” Ryan said. Huh. Vague answer. Shane could’ve use a little more information than that, sir.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Shane said, drawing out the ‘O.’ “Think of it this way. You were naive, and you began a journey, whether you wanted to or not. But you began it, and you’ve learned something new. And I’m getting an energy,” Shane said, trying </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard not to laugh at himself, “that it wasn’t something you’d hoped it would be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s been a rough time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think this has to do with the series you’ve started, or something else?” Shane said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s hard to say,” Ryan said. He ran a hand down his neck. “I’ve started a lot of things lately, and as far as friendship goes I don’t think that’s the most obvious one. But uh, yeah, there’s just. A lot going on,” Ryan said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Y’know, when Shane started this hooey job he didn’t really expect to grow attached to the clientele. But Ryan looked so stressed out, in that moment, and Shane almost felt sorry for the guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next card?” Shane asked. Ryan shrugged, pulling another one from the deck. Shane eyed it over, flipping it gently on its back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ace of Cups.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan seemed to visibly relax at this one. Shane offered him a smile. “See? Not all bad. Ace of Cups usually means that there’s something good to be had in a new relationship. So the cards are answering, and they’re saying yeah, go for it. Now’s the best time, y’know, no time like the present,” Shane said. “This card means a new lease on life, that sorta thing. So like, go get ‘em, champ.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan laughed at that, rolling his eyes with a smile. “I’ve never had a fortune teller call me </span>
  <em>
    <span>champ</span>
  </em>
  <span> before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, now you have… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Champ</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Shane said, and Ryan laughed again. Shane hadn’t met very many people who’d he’d describe as having a mega-watt smile, but Ryan was surely one of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan drew another card, passing it to Shane. Shane flipped it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Queen of Cups.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Another cups card.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a lot of emotions going on right now with you,” Shane said. “This spread’s been mostly cups, so that’s usually indicative of a pretty emotional time. But it’s going to turn out well, and the friend you want to make will likely be imaginative, creative, and fun to be around. So there you go, Ry! Make a buddy,” Shane said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan smiled, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. Shane made a face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I said this one’s on the house. I don’t backtrack on my word.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan chuckled, putting the wallet away. “Alright, big guy, if you insist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Shane’s turn to laugh. “Wh-- Big guy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re tall,” was all Ryan said. Shane shrugged. Well. He couldn’t argue with that. Ryan stood up to leave, and something pulled at Shane's gut. </span>
</p><p>"Wait," he said, and Ryan turned to face him, a questioning look on his face. "You're looking for new friends. I've been living here a couple months, haven't really gotten out much. We should hang out sometime."</p><p>Ryan smiled, and gave a short laugh. "Y'know what? I was hoping you would say that."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>enjoyyyy sorry if this one's a little too similar to the last one, there's only so many ways to describe a tarot reading lmao.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i hate writing rpf but i'm in quarantine and angry about my shitty experiences with tarot</p><p>anyway there's gonna be 5 chapters-- feb, march, april, may, and june, bc those are the 5 months BFU was a thing before shane</p><p>so like enjoy ig? i may not finish this, it's mostly a self indulgent thing if i'm honest. have a nice day and once again im sorry</p></blockquote></div></div>
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